Ridin' Solo (Sisters From Hell Book 1), Marika Ray [librera reader txt] 📗

five daughters can make with their mouths. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s talk about what you’re having for dinner. Is it another one of those nutrition-less frozen meals?” She didn’t even give me a chance to answer. “I told you I’d be happy to make some extra each time I make dinner and drop it off to you. I can’t have you withering away on me. You’re so slight as it is.”

I shook my head and pulled on sweats and a tank top. “Mom. I’m short, but I could take most women in an arm wrestle.” In my mom’s eyes, if a woman didn’t have rounded hips, ample bosom spilling over, and a thigh-rubbing problem, they weren’t hardy women.

“Well, I think I’ll swing by tomorrow and drop off a few things.” She ignored my logical defense, as usual, but her heart was in the right place—and I really wouldn’t mind some homemade meals—so I didn’t call her on it. “Your father wants to speak to you.”

Loud ruffling filled the air as they handed off the phone without a care for the eardrums of the person on the other end of the line. I took the call off speaker and pressed the phone to my ear. The microwave dinged, and I moved back into the kitchen to eat.

“Oakley?”

“I’m here, Dad.” The lasagna proved a little cold in the middle, but I wasn’t one to complain. I needed adequate sustenance. It didn’t have to taste like a gourmet meal. I sat down at the kitchenette table and dug in.

“I’m still concerned they haven’t assigned you a new partner yet. It’s been three months. That’s plenty of time to hire from outside if need be.”

I shoved in a big bite and talked around it. “I know, but what can I do? I’m kind of enjoying being on my own.”

“Oakley.” The word was a rebuke. “It’s not safe for you to be out there on patrol on your own. Downright negligent of them.”

This was familiar territory. Dad criticized the county sheriff’s department. The county sheriff’s department criticized the small-town police force. It was a merry-go-round of disapproval we’d never get off.

“I can ask the sheriff about it again tomorrow.” I knew it wouldn’t do any good. Sheriff Locke remained an immovable force, but perhaps it would get Dad to settle down for another week.

“You do that, honey.” There was a pause, and I braced myself for it. “You know, it would have made things a lot easier if you’d just been a police officer. I would have made sure you always had a partner.”

And there it was. The guilt trip that had nipped at my heels since the day I got accepted into the sheriff’s academy and broke my father’s heart. I’d chosen a different department and he couldn’t seem to reconcile the fact that my doing so didn’t mean I loved or respected him any less. I just wanted to know that I succeeded on my own, not because my daddy was the town chief of police.

“I know, Dad. Well, I gotta go. My food’s getting cold.” All the satisfied feelings of a job well done left to die a slow death in the shadows of my father’s disappointment.

Dad grunted at my change in subject.

“Your mother wants to know if you met any handsome men today,” Dad grumbled like he didn’t want to ask, but he feared he’d have his ass handed to him if he didn’t.

The lasagna felt like a brick in my stomach. “Tell her my love life is just fine, thank you very much.” Dad made a distressed noise. “Tell her to focus on Amelia, okay? She’s married and giving her a grandkid shortly. That should tide her over.”

Dad sighed. “You know your mom…”

“Yes, I do. And despite it all, I love her. And you. Good night, Dad.”

“Love you too. ’Night.”

I put the phone down and inhaled the rest of my lasagna, washing it down with a bottle of water. I should look into those box deliveries of dinner items and instructions. They’d have more vegetables and fresher ingredients, but I just couldn’t be bothered with it all. I didn’t exactly have the time to cook a dinner that took an hour to prepare. That time could be better spent working out or doing paperwork.

Speaking of which, I had some to do tonight. I settled into the couch, flipped on a movie I’d seen a thousand times, and got busy documenting everything I’d done today on the job.

If my night was a little repetitive and a lot lonely, I didn’t let it bother me. The job came first. Always.

And I was damn good at my job.

2

Oakley

“Lee!” barked the sheriff. “Get in here.”

“Yes, sir.” My boots squeaked on the clean linoleum floor as I changed directions and headed into the sheriff’s office. Betty, the sheriff’s long-suffering secretary, gave me a wide-eyed look which didn’t help my stomach much. When Sheriff Locke told you to do something, you dropped everything and did it. Fine by me to be a little late getting out on patrol this morning. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to seeing if the maintenance crew had sufficiently aired out my cruiser from last night’s unfortunate arrest.

“Close the door,” he growled. One would think he was angry, or that I was about to be fired, but this was just how Sheriff Locke handled everything. With privacy and a bare minimum of words.

I closed the door, sat, and clasped my hands in my lap. I could feel one particular hair tugging on my scalp and causing my eye to twitch. Wearing my hair in a tight bun every day came second nature by now, and yet I always had that one hair that wanted to torture me. Guys had it easy with their buzz cuts that looked the same whether or not they combed their hair.

The sheriff shuffled some papers on his giant desk and then made eye contact. “You’ve got a new partner starting today.”

My entire